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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27101986">Never in a Thousand Years</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AFixerMuse/pseuds/AFixerMuse'>AFixerMuse</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>To Be or Not to Be, That is Their Question [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Flirting, Bigotry &amp; Prejudice, F/M, First Impressions, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Hopeful Ending, Rejection, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-09 04:35:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,149</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27101986</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AFixerMuse/pseuds/AFixerMuse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Qunari—he never in a thousand years would’ve expected one of them to be the sole survivor of the blast or to receive a Mark of such potent magic. Facing his own preconceived notions of the elusive race, Cullen can't help but wonder what this woman was about with her questions. Surely this Qunari mercenary wasn’t expressing an interest in him romantically? The fates were strange and, if recent events were any indication, Cullen could only assume things were going to get decidedly stranger. Adaar/Cullen oneshot series self-challenge Part 1</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adaar/Cullen Rutherford, Female Adaar/Cullen Rutherford</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>To Be or Not to Be, That is Their Question [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101113</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Coming to Fruition</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Never in a Thousand Years</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a one-shot POV connected to my other story "Truth or Lie in the Dark" featuring Ataashi Adaar and Cullen Rutherford. Not particularly fluffy this one, but then again Cullen's origin got real dark real fast and this reflects that. Hope you enjoy! You don't have to read them "in order" but this is chronologically the first story.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>"Cullen! Cullen, what in the name of the Maker are you doing on that barrel?" He looked up from his seat upon his trusty stead—said barrel, his brandished sword—a mop—steady in his hands to vanquish the demon—a tied batch of corn—to find his mother standing in the barn's doorway. "I thought you were having your riding lessons with Mia." Cullen knew she wasn't asking a question. Mothers always did that.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cullen sheathed his sword and dismounted his horse, giving the demon a good kick before facing his mother, hands on his hips and feet wide.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Mia didn't want me to follow her today, so I came in here to-" He reached up and pulled off his feathered helm—one of cook's missing pots with chicken feathers shoved through the edges of it. He wondered if his mother would tell cook that he had been the one to take the pot...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His mother strode forward and took his helm, "You came in here to what, Cullen?" She didn't sound angry this time. That was good.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I came in here to train, mother. Mia told me I could, instead of going with her on the riding lessons."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She looked at his stead, an Orlesian Courser today, before sighing and turning her warm eyes back to him, "Training for what exactly?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"To be a Templar."</em>
</p><p>Back in the present, Cullen rolled onto his back, his eyes staring at the darkened roof of his tent. Recent events had his mind reeling, unable to find solace in dreamless sleep. And it seemed even in the space between sleep and wake, his mind wandered yet further into the realm of bittersweet.</p><p>
  <em>"What did it taste like?" Branson asked soon after the formal ceremony.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cullen felt the thrum of it already merging with his bones, and though he wanted to run outside and tear down trees, rip up roads, or just DO anything to show off the power he felt building in his body, Cullen remained at the table. His family had traveled all the way to Kinloch to witness his final vows and his first draught of lyrium drunk.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"It was strangely cold, almost sweet, maybe bitter…" he shrugged and would've continued save for Mia's snort interrupting him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"You never could describe things properly."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Or in one sentence," Rosalie added, his sisters laughing at his expense from across the table.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Girls," his father's regal voice interrupted their jibes and hushed them instantly, "your brother has done a great thing today. He is embarking on a great journey. And he will meet with a great many challenges along the way." He nodded at Cullen, and Cullen felt as if he grew a full foot taller under his father's gaze. "And," his father added, "it is a great thing a Templar is not recruited for his oratory skills."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cullen shook his head as both his sisters and now Branson returned to their laughing. He felt his mother's warm hand squeeze his under the table, and he noted her eyes were also bright with mischief when she spoke.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Will you have feathers in your helmet, son?"</em>
</p><p>Cullen shuddered, letting the memory fall back into place, only allowed to be touched in the very late night or very early morning hours. His parents would be dead the following year from the Blight, his siblings scattered to South Reach, and Uldred the blood mage would have filled the Circle with demons and abominations for his fellow Templars' destruction. To think an entire family's future could be destroyed within a year…</p><p>
  <em>"They aren't to be trusted."</em>
</p><p>Cullen heard Knight-Commander Meredith's voice break through the bittersweet memories of his family, and his heart turned to stone.</p><p>
  <em>"I trust you to know that better than all others. After what happened to you at Kinloch Hold." The Knight-Commander put her hand on his shoulder, "Was it a Pride demon or a Desire demon who did most of the torturing?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cullen felt bile rise in his throat and only barely restrained himself from retching all over his commander, "Desire."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Ah," the Knight-Commander let go and looked to the new mages moving into their Circle, "I wonder how many demons this lot will bring upon our heads."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cullen felt his hands shaking and pressed them together, squeezing until they ceased their quivering.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"It is always the mages, Templar. Remember that, always the mages."</em>
</p><p>Cullen drew his hands over his face before sitting up. There would be no more sleep. Making quick work of putting on his clothes and armor, Cullen reported to the watch. The darkened world of pre-dawn was an eerie greenish glow. The rift Cassandra vowed to close was still there. His troop numbers were dwindling with each passing day, and Cullen felt the guilt of a failed commander. When would this end?</p><p>Of course, there was nowhere else in Thedas he would rather be, where he felt it was right to be. When Cassandra had contacted him for support, Cullen came to her side without hesitation. Cullen had few that he would call friends, and even fewer that could qualify as close friends, and of that number Cassandra was among the highest. If she needed support in rooting out corruption and supporting the Divine, Cullen would be there. And now, with the conclave at the Temple of Sacred Ashes destroyed, Cullen had no intention of leaving. This was one of those moments in history, defining, a test of one's character. Their names would be added to the annals of Thedas, and their decisions each day would determine if they were to be remembered for their successes or failures.</p><p>The strange screaming howl coming from the rift ended. The sky flashed a brighter green, blinding them all. When Cullen dropped his protecting arm from his face, he saw the bizarre green from the larger Breach still there, but the smaller, more active one was no longer circling in the sky. Cassandra had proved true to her vow. Cullen pulled his lips into a thin smile before returning his attention to the men in his immediate surrounding. They would no longer need to be entrenched on the front lines. He gave orders to regroup back at the main camp before breaking that down and retreating further to their stronghold in Haven.</p><p>Though relieved at the recent victory, this was no time for celebration. They still had the larger Breach to contend with; and there was that prisoner as well. Cullen nodded to himself as he moved through the ranks of his men, now filing away to do his bidding. Though some were injured, most were in relatively good condition, and now, with the closest rift dealt with, they seemed to have higher morale. Thank the Maker. It had been quite some time since they'd had cause for good morale.</p><p>Cullen's mind strayed back to the prisoner. That prisoner was NOT something he'd expected. While he'd known a group of mercenaries were maintaining the peace at the Temple delegation, and he'd been informed of their race—Qunari—he never in a thousand years would've expected one of them to be the sole survivor of the blast or to receive a Mark of such potent magic.</p><p>Cullen shook his head as his frown deepened with every step he took towards the Temple remains. He'd had some opportunity to study the prisoner after her initial capture. Unconscious, her body quivering and covered in the explosion's gore, she'd looked different from the Qunari he'd had dealings with in Kirkwall, but there was no mistaking her race. At that time, she'd smelled of explosive magic, and the stench of the Mark so freshly embedded into her body had driven Cullen and his Templar's senses far away. Typically, when confronted with such raw magic, he struck out to execute for the greater good. Without permission to do so with their prisoner, and Cassandra demanding time and interrogation before the execution, Cullen had seen little reason to remain. They would call him when the execution was necessary, if Cassandra herself did not see to it first.</p><p>Coming through the last of the nearly collapsed tunnels, Cullen looked down into the ruined courtyard. More of his men were filing away, carrying those fallen brothers and sisters, and assisting those who could walk. Cullen felt his rage rise. Why in the hell did mages have to be so damned irresponsible with magic? Of course, he didn't have proof that all this happened because of a mage, but he felt it more likely than any other choice.</p><p>He spied the odd elven apostate, Solas, and Cassandra's former prisoner—or was he prisoner still?—Varric, speaking with the Qunari mercenary. Cassandra stood a little further away, her back to Cullen.</p><p>"Lady Cassandra," Cullen took the steps leading down to them two at a time, "I see you managed to close the rift." He offered her a smile of camaraderie as he drew close. The other three companions, hearing his approach, ended their conversation, and turned to face him. "I congratulate you."</p><p>Cassandra shook her head, "Do not congratulate me, Commander." She pointed a carnage covered arm towards the Qunari. "This is the prisoner's doing."</p><p>At Cullen's blatant surprise, Cullen thought he saw an amused smile cross Solas' face, and he felt Varric's entertainment of the situation increase. The dwarf found everything entertaining. and as potential book fodder. When his eyes traveled away from the odd pair, all he saw of the Qunari at first were the twisted horns jutting back from her forehead, her looming height, and the power in her stance. Her eyes were darting around them as if looking for more danger, or as if she were guilty of something. He felt the magic of the Mark ever from this distance and frowned.</p><p>"Is it?" Cullen shifted his weight and angled towards the Qunari, his words finally drawing her gaze. "I hope they're right about you." He thought he saw a momentary wavering in the nearly neutral expression she wore. What the emotion was, Cullen could not tell. Only her eyes widened, then narrowed when he spoke again, "We've lost a lot of people getting you here."</p><p>"Their sacrifice is noted." He denoted a great deal of strength, equalling that of her body, in her voice. What she would do with that strength remained to be seen. Something shifted in her gaze at his noticeable study, and her voice lowered, "I'll do what I can to help."</p><p>Cullen frowned, "We'll see." Her eyes came back from their wandering at his words, and he spied her shoulders tensing in response. "Soon enough." He nodded once more to Cassandra before helping one of his injured men back up the steps.</p><p>"A Qunari," sometime later Cullen heard his soldiers talking amongst themselves on their journey back to Haven, "never would've thought..."</p><p>An echoing head shake came from the man's companion, "Andraste save us."</p><p>Cullen remained silent. He had spent less than five minutes in her presence and he, frankly, felt the inclination to mutter the same prayer. But there was too much to take care of to dwell on the race of the prisoner, and so Cullen stalwartly kept his attention on the matters close at hand. They were still unloading the carts of wounded when Cassandra showed up with the prisoner hours later. It looked as if Cassandra was giving her a tour, but even from his distance, Cullen could see the slight involuntary sway in the Qunari's stance. He frowned. Had she been wounded in the earlier fight? Not that he felt any affection, but they still didn't have all the answers they needed or wanted from her and it wouldn't do to have her die on them, at least not yet.</p><p>"Lady Cassandra," Cullen drew closer, "I trust everything is in order for the prisoner?"</p><p>Cassandra opened her mouth to answer, but the prisoner interrupted them. Not by her words, per se, but by suddenly toppling over and knocking them both down. The bulk of her torso lay across Cassandra's lap while the mercenary's head was cushioned intimately between Cullen's legs. In his scrambling to remove her, Cullen nearly impaled his palm on the tip of a horn. He eventually grabbed both of her horns to lift her head and move out from under her weight. Commander Rylen and a few others rushed forward to help remove her from Cassandra. Together, they lifted her and followed Adan when he turned up, as cantankerous as ever, ready to direct them to the prisoner's new quarters.</p><p>"We never mention this?" Cullen looked away from Rylen and the others carrying the prisoner and watched as Cassandra swiped away snow and dirt from her clothes. It was embarrassing to admit that the prisoner "got the drop" on them by dropping on them.</p><p>She nodded, "Correct."</p><p>The prisoner remained unconscious for some time after that and it was Josephine who was the first to bring to his attention, to their attention, the grave ramifications of recent events. The Chantry's demand that they disband, their condemnation of a Qunari as the supposed "herald," among several other pertinent facts that Cullen had little interest in as they pertained to noble houses and diplomacy. He much preferred the simple kill or don't kill, protect or sacrifice of military duty to the finer elements of rulership such as intrigue. Cullen was thankful they had Leliana and Josephine for those things. He was the very definition of a blunt instrument of war.</p><p>He was speaking with Leliana, or rather he was in the middle of arguing with her about whether to support the Templars or mages, when Cassandra entered the war room prisoner in tow. His eyes darted to her horns, remembering the feel of them in his hands when he'd lifted her face away from his body. They'd been mostly smooth, his gloved hands having a hard time finding purchase on them. He shifted on his feet and forced a polite smile. She was as tall as he remembered, her bearing as strong, but now without the grime and gore of battle, he noticed a few other things. Such as the color of her hair—auburn—and skin—alabaster white and marred with scars—and how her horns started a greyish color at her skin and closer to the sharpened tips they turned black. Although she'd been presented with typical Qunari armor, Cullen was surprised to note she'd dressed instead in more Fereldan type clothing: a loosely fitted tunic under a man's fur-lined leather trench coat over form-fitting trousers with near knee-high boots laced up her muscular calves. Strapped to her arms, waist, back, and legs were several knives of strange design, further reminding Cullen of her foreign nature and just how much they had yet to understand her intentions.</p><p>Cassandra nodded in his direction, drawing Cullen out of his thoughts, "You've met Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition's forces."</p><p>The prisoner inclined her head. Cullen fought the urge to watch her horns move instead of maintaining his focus on her face. "It was only for a moment on the field." He kept his forced polite smile but surprised himself when he added a fairly genuine, "I'm pleased you survived."</p><p>The Qunari's eyes did that widening and narrowing thing again, and Cullen was further surprised to notice, even in this lighting, that she had freckles on her nose and cheeks. Odd how something he would consider delicate would decorate the skin of a creature of such brutish origins and bearing. Cassandra went on with the introductions, and when she finished, the Qunari bowed her head again with respect.</p><p>"Pleased to meet you all." Cullen doubted she felt the emotion she voiced but kept the comment to himself.</p><p>Josephine brought the earlier argument/conversation back to their attention, and Cullen ignored the Qunari as he followed the exchange of words. When Leliana yet again spoke against his idea, Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose. How could she misunderstand the danger of mages so completely?</p><p>"I WAS a Templar." He glanced over to Leliana and shook his head, "I know what they're capable of." When he looked away, Cullen's eyes momentarily held the Qunari's, and he saw an almost warm look cross her face. But in response to what he knew was a stern look on his own, she shuttered her expression back to neutrality.</p><p>By the end of their first meeting there was no consensus except that whether she liked it or not, the Qunari was to go to the Hinterlands to find Mother Giselle. If they were to be considered legitimate and not all burned at the stake for heresy, she would need to supply them with the names of those in the Chantry likely to become their allies. The meeting over, Cullen was the last to leave, wanting to note a few more details on the maps spread across the table. It was only after a quiet moment that he felt a presence behind him and tensed. Turning, Cullen saw the Qunari hovering in the doorway. Cassandra and Leliana were speaking just outside in the great hall, and the mercenary remained. Cullen raised an eyebrow at her. The last portion of the conversation had entailed a discussion on what to call her. The Qunari had not looked entirely pleased with the prospect of being called the "Herald of Andraste."</p><p>"It's quite the title, isn't it?" Cullen turned his gaze back to the maps. He didn't hear her come close, a surprise considering her bulk. He had to tip his head back to look up at her when she stood next to him by the maps. "How do you feel about that?"</p><p>The Qunari placed her large hands on the side of the table and leaned over it, her eyes taking in the details. It was a mystery to Cullen what she might think about it all. Only a moment more passed before she stood back up and turned to face him, settling her arms across her chest. "It's…a little unsettling. I've never considered myself a religious person, and now to have another culture's religion brand me as a 'chosen one' is preposterous."</p><p>"I'm sure the Chantry would agree." Cullen hadn't meant for his voice to sound so hardened, so judgmental. He watched the Qunari's jaw tighten. It was then that Cullen realized he couldn't remember her name. Makers breath, but he could be dense. "Forgive me. I did not mean to sound rude." Cullen rubbed the back of his neck, wondering if Cassandra had spoken the mercenary's name earlier and he just hadn't been paying attention, or if he'd never heard it at all. "To continue the conversation from earlier," the Qunari rocked back slightly on her heels as if preparing for a verbal assault, "what is your preference for a title? What would you have us call you?"</p><p>"By my name."</p><p>Cullen ground his teeth together. She wasn't accommodating.</p><p>"Herald," Cassandra ducked her head back in, and Cullen inwardly sighed. Even Cassandra was not helpful. "Forgive me," she looked between Cullen and the Qunari, "Adaar," Cullen's eyes darted back to the mercenary, satisfied to have a name finally, "Leliana would speak with you in her tent. If you have a moment?" The Seeker's eyes traveled back to Cullen. He shook his head. He had no reason to keep her.</p><p>The Qunari, Adaar, bowed her head to Cullen, then ducked out through the door. It was a few days later that he knew her first name, Ataashi. He could now pay her some respect by qualifying her according to her name since he too had his doubts regarding her connection to Andraste. He appreciated her lack of religious fanaticism. That besides her race and former employment would've caused even more of a stir among the Inquisition's forces.</p><p>Regarding her intentions towards the Inquisition, well, she appeared genuine in her statements to want to help. When given the opportunity, Adaar pursued strategic suggestions made by each of her advisors, including Cullen, and he knew of the four of them he was the least inclined towards warmth or affection. Despite her former trade and race, and all the prejudiced fears associated with it, Cullen was surprised to find their numbers at Haven swelling with each passing day. Some of those numbers had more to do with willing souls who wanted to DO something about the Breach and knew that the Inquisition was the only organized entity actively combating it. But even Cullen had to admit that quite a number were directly connected to either the supposed religious aspect of Adaar's survival or to Adaar herself.</p><p>Mostly, Cullen's men either treated her with awed respect or gave her a wide berth. Only a few dared to utter "ox-woman" whenever she passed by or as a way of describing her when retelling of her endeavors. Cullen had never heard this himself, but Commander Rylen informed him of it. It was also Commander Rylen who'd reported that the men he'd caught saying such nonsense had been reprimanded and demoted. It seemed Rylen had a greater sense of urgency for dissuading such comments than most in his position, and Cullen marked it away to discuss at some later time. Maybe Rylen had more history with the "ox people" than most and was more aware of the nuances of insult related to the term.</p><p>It wasn't until some weeks later, while he was surveying the new recruits, that Adaar approached him. They'd shared meals, along with the other advisors, the apostate and dwarf, and everyone else in Haven. They only had the one tavern. But until this mid-morning, Adaar had not attempted to purposefully seek him out without the other advisors in the vicinity. He'd earlier glimpsed her walking from the blacksmith to where Cassandra was training but had nearly forgotten of her nearby presence until suddenly there she was, standing tall and strong by his side.</p><p>The icy wind that tossed the furs of his cloak around equally shifted the wisps of hair that had fallen free of her bun. He supposed she didn't feel the cold as keenly as the rest of them, judging by her clothing and the way she didn't even shiver when a sudden gust caught them both. He was thankful she wasn't feeling faint again. He certainly didn't want a repeat of that first day.</p><p>Cullen handed back the missive his agent had been waiting on before he addressed Adaar, "We've received a number of recruits." His eyes traveled over the trainees. Some were more likely to survive than others. "Locals from Haven and some pilgrims." He returned his gaze to Adaar's. Her expression was neutral, as always, and the sunlight made the freckles on her nose brighten. It surprised Cullen that her eyes were almost a purple color and not the original black or brown he'd assumed them to be in the low light of their meetings in the war room. In all, despite the height and the horns, and the scars, she was a very expressive woman. Not unattractive. Just extraordinarily different. He brought himself back to the conversation, "None made quite the entrance you did."</p><p>"Wasn't my choice." Adaar shrugged.</p><p>"I'd be concerned if it was." Cullen heard another agent approach and took the correspondence as he moved towards the training dummies. A few new trainees looked ready to break into an actual fight if someone didn't intervene soon. He handed back the correspondence and signaled one of his sergeants to step in between the new trainees. He then returned his attention to the mercenary "Herald" who'd kept pace with his movements. "I was recruited to the Inquisition from Kirkwall, myself. I was there during the mage uprising." Cullen momentarily fell into his memories and shuddered. "I saw firsthand the devastation it caused."</p><p>Her next question worked to shatter the darkness of his memories and left him thoroughly confused, "Then, did you leave anyone behind in Kirkwall?"</p><p>"No." He both verbally and physically sidestepped, uncertain what to make of this new line of conversation. "I fear I made few friends there, and my family is in Fereldon." He brought his hands together in front of his chest, wringing them. What was she looking for in her questions?</p><p>Adaar pressed onward, "No one special caught your interest?"</p><p>"I-I can't say I was looking…" surely this Qunari mercenary wasn't expressing an interest in him romantically? Cullen rubbed a hand through his hair, "honestly, I was not good company back then."</p><p>"Are you looking for good company now?" Her eyes were bright and wide, and Cullen felt his stomach give out in fear.</p><p>"Ser!"</p><p>They were both saved by another agent who ran up with yet another message. Cullen broke the intense stare down with the mercenary and concentrated on the words on the page. Adaar's question still tripped around in his mind, but somehow he responded to the missive with the quill supplied before sending the agent on his way.</p><p>"Er…um…" Cullen moved again, aware that Adaar was still on his heel, "about the Inquisition." He gave a shaky smile and watched as Adaar's lips pulled back in a lopsided smile. "Cassandra sought a solution. When she offered me a position, I left the Templars to join her cause." He looked up to the Breach. "Now, it seems we face something far worse."</p><p>"Everything IS a mess." Her voice was soft and pulled his attention back to her face. "You left the Templars for this." It was a statement, and one of a surprise if he read her voice correctly. "You believe the Inquisition can work?"</p><p>He nodded, "I do. The Chantry lost control of both Templars and mages. Now they argue over a New Divine while the Breach remains. The Inquisition could act when the Chantry cannot. Our followers would be part of that. There's so much we can-" Cullen caught himself. As he had spoken, he'd seen light growing in Adaar's eyes and had momentarily forgotten himself, where they were, and who she was. The rapt way she'd focused on him had seemed an enticing encouragement to press forward. It wasn't often he was given such unadulterated attention. "Forgive me. I doubt you came here for a lecture."</p><p>"No, but if you have one prepared, I'd like to hear it." She ducked her head down, and for the first time in their exchange, Cullen's eyes were drawn towards her horns as she added, "I can be good company."</p><p>For the second time, Cullen's stomach gave out, and he felt weak and feverish. He'd had women pursue him before, and from a broad spectrum of looks, ages, and races—though never Qunari. Cullen understood his physical appeal. He had inherited the handsome looks from both his parents, and all his siblings were considered just as attractive. His mother and sisters had often enough attempted to throw female acquaintances at him both before and after his Templar vows. Only less than a half dozen times had any of those women appealed to him and even then, his desire to be with the Templars, to prove himself through his vows, had taken precedence.</p><p>But it was more than a lack of interest. Cullen had the unfortunate ability to stick his foot in his mouth whenever confronted with blatant interest. Most women had little patience for his stumbling efforts to express himself, and the few who did had enough patience to stick around for him to finish speaking certainly had stuck around only a little longer after they exchanged a few fervent kisses. Even before the events at Kinloch Hold, Cullen had never been good with women. In the years after, he was downright shite about it. To have this particular woman express this particular interest at this particular time had Cullen's heart racing.</p><p>"I…" he had to swallow the bile that accompanied his confusion and fear, "if I've made you think otherwise…" Cullen brought his hands together and squeezed, channeling his nerves through the contact until he could speak more reasonably, "I have so many responsibilities, and..." He took a deep breath, "I am…" as he tried, and was obviously failing to, politely convey his disinterest in her romantically, Cullen watched a myriad of emotions play out in the depths of her eyes. Finally, he added something somewhat cohesive to hide his fear behind, "there's still a lot of work ahead."</p><p>Adaar shifted back on her heels, much as she had in the war room after their formal introduction. Her nod was more of a head jerk, "Right." She uncrossed her arms from over her chest and clenched and unclenched her fists at her sides. "Yes." She gave another head jerking nod, causing Culling to yet again stray his attention to her horns. "Of course." She reached up and scratched her scalp at the base of her left horn, and her lips pulled into a forced smile.</p><p>"I would hope for your friendship," Cullen offered a truce between them with his words, "but cannot offer more."</p><p>Before Adaar could respond one of his sergeants approached, "Commander!" He looked between Cullen and Adaar before seemingly ignoring the Qunari and focusing on Cullen only, "Ser Rylen has a report on our supply lines."</p><p>Cullen was thankful for the quick "out" from the awkward turn their exchange had traveled, but he couldn't help but feel marginally guilty at not letting her down more gently. Though large, brutish, and of a race he had no interest in understanding better, he was certain some things remained the same for women, and a bruised ego smarted regardless of race.</p><p>"As I was saying," he gave Adaar what he hoped was deemed a friendly smile before turning to follow the sergeant.</p><p>When he glanced over his shoulder, he found the mercenary facing the Breach, her hands on her hips in what looked to be a challenging posture. No, he never would've guessed their Herald would be a Qunari mercenary. Nor would he have thought that same Herald would express a romantic interest in him. The fates were strange and, if recent events were any sign, Cullen could only assume things were going to get decidedly stranger.</p><p>And indeed they turned stranger. As the Inquisition continued to benefit from the near tireless efforts of Adaar, Cullen came to see her in a different light. Cullen found himself less distracted by her horns when they spoke over the war table and far more focused on her words, and her eyes. He discovered it was very rare that he referred to her in his mind or in conversation as a Qunari and instead had settled on Adaar. And Cullen was surprised to find that it was quite often Adaar sided with him on decisions regarding alliances or actions to be taken for the Inquisition. It seemed she preferred the bold and upfront action of a sword, or the subtle thrust of a dagger, to the political games offered by Josephine. Where they were quite different, however, was that she appeared, despite herself, to have a knack for the diplomacy that he lacked.</p><p>And it was on that diplomacy of Josephine they'd rested their hopes but failed to recruit the Lord Seeker in Val Royeux. Now they had to chase the Lord Seeker down to a decades-long abandoned fortress in Therinfal Redoubt. It was decided then and Adaar took Solas, Varric, and the Qunari mercenary Iron Bull. She felt Cassandra would have too much history with the Lord Seeker to maintain diplomatic silence and Cullen had been surprised at her wisdom.</p><p>None of them could have known the betrayal to the Order they were to find. And Cullen supposed it had been all the wiser that Cassandra had not been there. To witness first hand the murders and attempted destruction of the values they both held dear would have perhaps been too much for her, especially so soon after losing Divine Justinia.</p><p>For himself, Cullen arrived with more Inquisition representatives only after the battle had been fought. The other advisors had agreed that his "timely" arrival soon after the Herald's would put more pressure on the Lord Seeker. Walking through the carnage of Therinfal, Cullen had to fight his own memories from overwhelming him completely. He saw himself in the severely wounded face of Ser Barris when they crossed paths at the gate. The Knight Templar could not tell him much of the events, but Cullen could infer plenty. He walked past the courtyard with the flags the Lord Seeker demanded Adaar raise (People first, Templars second, Andraste third), and followed the string of survivors to the top of the keep. He found the rest of the surviving Templars standing in a ruined corridor leading out to the roof. Though he stood at the back, Cullen could hear a heavily accented voice speaking.</p><p>"We lacked vigilance. Our officers failed us. The rest of the Order was blind. If the Inquisition has a use for us, we're ready to hear it."</p><p>Cullen leaned to the side and through the armored ranks of Templars he spied first Adaar's horns. Then, as she shifted on her own feet, he saw the rest of her. Though covered in the carnage of battle, she appeared unharmed, and that in and of itself was a feat considering the amount of wreckage he'd seen on the floors below.</p><p>Her voice was resolute when she spoke, "You know what you need to do." He smiled. Just like her to say something direct.</p><p>"But the Order is leaderless," the accented Knight Templar spoke again, "gutted by betrayal. We must rebuild it."</p><p>The surrounding Templars seemed to notice him then and immediately shifted to the side, giving Cullen room to move forward. He did so slowly, listening as Adaar responded passionately.</p><p>"Your Order is a symbol that holds people's respect. It cannot die today." He was still at least three rows away from where she stood, but he could clearly see her now. Her eyes blazed with fiery emotion, and her body seemed to thrum with the energy of hope. "We offer you an alliance to rebuild it as our partners. Supplies, weapons, grounds to shelter you." Her voice stuttered when they made eye contact. She paused for a half-second longer, and in that half-second Cullen felt fully immersed in her gaze. Unlike that day outside Haven, he didn't feel overwhelmed by its intensity. She gave him a quiet nod before addressing the rest of the Templars, "All we ask is you help us close the Breach."</p><p>The Templars erupted into cheers. Cullen stepped to the side and followed Adaar and her companions back down to the courtyard. He checked in with the acting captain of the veteran Templars, Knight Templar Fletcher, before moving to join Adaar. They were readying their horses when he caught up.</p><p>"You spoke well, Herald." Cullen reached out to take the reins of Adaar's horse, relieving the Templar who'd been serving as a temporary stable boy. "I know the Templars will make worthy allies."</p><p>Solas cleared his throat, already seated on his mount and looking down at Cullen, "I am curious if the other advisors will have the same sentiment, Commander."</p><p>Adaar shared a glance with Cullen before swinging up into her seat. It was true; likely they were going to both get an earful from the others back in Haven.</p><p>Cassandra was the first to verbally attack the decision once they were safely isolated in the war room upon their return. Cullen kept his mouth shut to allow her her peace until she exclaimed, "The crimes they committed!"</p><p>"Were committed by their officers." He growled out in interruption.</p><p>Leliana also sounded frustrated but less violently so when she added, "These past crimes put them at our mercy, yet the terms of this alliance do not benefit the Inquisition as they should." He watched the spymaster narrow her eyes in judgment at Adaar. "You should have consulted us, Herald." Cullen felt himself stiffen as if it had been he Leiliana was chastising.</p><p>"One," Adaar maintained her neutral expression as she held up a finger, "that would've taken a while. None of you were not witness to the events as we were." She held up a second finger. "Two, the Order was in chaos and we had to shape it going forward or risk losing it entirely." It impressed Cullen that she was maintaining her composure when he knew if he were in her place, he'd be speaking at about two levels louder. "Three," she held up a third finger, "this was your idea. Our choices were apostate mages in Redcliffe or the Templars and an alliance with the Templars was our desired outcome."</p><p>Josephine nodded, "That is true. May we discuss their imminent arrival?" She seemed just as ready to diplomatically move on from the decision as Adaar.</p><p>"A few dozen veterans are coming ahead of the rest to help seal the Breach," Cassandra commented, still not sounding happy but at least willing to move forward.</p><p>"How soon until these veterans arrive?"</p><p>Cullen jerked when a figure, that of a young man, flashed on the war table. "They're almost here." He spoke, his voice breathy. "Templars don't like to be late."</p><p>Cullen unsheathed his sword only marginally faster than Cassandra, both of them moving in to strike. Leliana circled to place herself in front of Josephine in the same instance. It was Adaar who altered the events he'd expected to unfold. She stepped in front of him, shielding the figure, as she called out to Cassandra to stop. The figure looked around, its body quaking. Adaar kept her eyes on Cullen, letting him known there was no chance she was about to let him strike. At least not yet.</p><p>"I came with you to help." The figure was speaking to Adaar. "I would have told you before, but you were busy."</p><p>Adaar took her eyes away from Cullen's long enough to ask over her shoulder, "You were following behind me in secret? All the way to Haven?"</p><p>"Yes, it's easy to make people forget you when they don't expect you to be there."</p><p>Cassandra shifted her weight towards the door, "Call the guards! This creature is not what you-"</p><p>"A moment please, Cassandra." Leliana moved away from Josephine and stepped closer to the war table. "I would like to hear why he came."</p><p>"You help people." The figure looked to Adaar, and while Cullen lowered his sword, he kept a firm grip. "You made them feel safe when they would have died." Cullen glanced between the figure and Adaar, curious what the figure had seen Adaar do at Therinfal. "I want to do that. I can help."</p><p>Adaar crossed her arms over her chest, "Why and how would you help the Inquisition?"</p><p>"The hole in the sky is too loud for spirits to think." Cullen frowned. This was the first he'd ever heard of spirits thinking. "It's pulling, pushing out pain. I want to stop it."</p><p>"How altruistic of you." Cassandra muttered, clearly not impressed, and Cullen felt similarly.</p><p>"I can help. I can be hard to see. I can kill things that would hurt people." Cullen's frown deepened. So would he kill any of them if he felt like THEY would hurt people? "I won't get in the way."</p><p>Adaar's gaze moved from Cassandra to Cullen and she sighed before she spoke again, "Cole saved my life in Therinfal." The figure had a name. "I couldn't have defeated Envy without him."</p><p>"But what does he want now?" Cassandra growled out, her hand also still gripping her sword.</p><p>Adaar threw a half-smile in Cole's direction. "I think he really is trying to help."</p><p>"I won't be in the way. Tiny. No trouble." He sounded like a child. An obtuse, and dangerous, child. "No notice taken unless you want them to."</p><p>Cullen moved closer to Adaar, "You're not honestly suggesting we give him run of the camp?"</p><p>A gasp from Josephine had Cullen looking back at the table. The figure, Cole, was gone.</p><p>"Wait. Where did he go?" Cassandra bent over to look under the table.</p><p>"I'll have people watch the boy," Leliana sounded amused but practical, "but let's not get distracted from the Breach." She nodded to Cullen.</p><p>Sighing, Cullen sheathed his sword and addressed Adaar, "We'll need your help when the Templar veterans arrive. Prepare while you can."</p><p>Dismissing soon after that, Cullen thought the day couldn't get any stranger, and yet it did. He'd only just arrived at the tavern when he found Rylen and a few of his sergeants holding Knight Templar Fletcher and one of his men apart from two other new recruits from the Free Marches. It was obvious harsh words and threats had already been traded and it looked as if blows were soon to follow.</p><p>"What in the name of Andraste is going on here?" He demanded, striding up to the group and physically pushing the two sides further apart as he spoke. "I demand an explanation. Now."</p><p>"These...men," Fletcher spat out the word, "dared to insult the Herald of Andraste." The Knight-Templar drew himself to his full height. "We will not stand by and let such derogatory remarks be made to the woman who single-handedly is seeking to restore glory to the Templar order."</p><p>"By Andraste's tits," one of the new recruits slurred his words, clearly heavily inebriated, "no Herald would come from the ox-people."</p><p>Fletcher and his men made another attempt to get at the drunken recruits, and Cullen had half a mind to let them. Only he had peace to uphold, and he had a fighting force to patch together. He nodded to Rylen and together they held the two groups back from blows again.</p><p>"There will be no more talk of ox-people," Cullen growled at the new recruits. "And there will be no more in-fighting. We have a Breach to seal and no time to waste brawling in a tavern. Commander Rylen!"</p><p>"Yessir."</p><p>"Since these men are so enamored with oxen," Cullen smirked at Rylen, "turn them over to our horsemaster. I believe he has some druffalo he's training into a yoke for a cart. These two could be of some service."</p><p>Rylen nodded, "Yessir." Turning to the recruits, he had his sergeants grab hold of their tunics, "Let's go!"</p><p>Cullen turned to watch them leave but stopped when he saw her standing by the door. He couldn't read Adaar's expression and barely had the time to before she turned on her heel and left as quietly as she'd arrived. Cullen sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Never in a thousand years would he have guessed he'd be the one to rise to the defense of a Qunari. But the fates were just as strange as ever.</p>
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